


Doing Better

by Ael



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Not Beta Read, Star Trek: Into Darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ael/pseuds/Ael
Summary: The bar gleams silver-blue under unseen lights, and he sits slouched on a bar stool, cradling a tall cool glass between his hands. A few drops cling to the bottom, and he lifts it to indicate to the barkeep that he'd like another.

  The soft whisper of cloth shifting tells him that someone has just sat down beside him, and he doesn't even need to look to know who it is. "We really should stop meeting like this."





	

The bar gleams silver-blue under unseen lights, and he sits slouched on a bar stool, cradling a tall cool glass between his hands. A few drops cling to the bottom, and he lifts it to indicate to the barkeep that he'd like another.

The soft whisper of cloth shifting tells him that someone has just sat down beside him, and he doesn't even need to look to know who it is. "We really should stop meeting like this."

"I can't say I disagree," Admiral Pike replies.

Jim glances at him, and something seems... off. Missing. All he can put his finger on is this strange tightness in his chest when he looks at his mentor, coupled with relief. "How'd you find me?"

Pike smiles slightly, and does not answer the question. "I know what you did, son. I knew you had it in you."

Jim hasn't seen the barkeep approach, but his glass is now full, and he sloshes the amber liquid around. "Had what?"

"Refusal to give up in the face of long odds, the willingness to put your crew's needs before your own, the guts to do what needs to be done no matter the consequences." Pike leans forward, resting his forearms against the bar. "I dared you to do better. Is this your answer?"

"I guess so." Jim downs his drink, and it burns all the way down. His entire body feels like it's on fire, but somehow it doesn't really hurt. Like it's so far away, it can't possibly harm him. "It's not like I was trying to be a hero. I lost too many of my crew." There's a lump in his throat as he remembers that, seeing the damage reports and knowing there would be casualties.

He looks down at his hands, seeing burns there but not feeling the pain from ruined flesh, and he can't quite remember how they came to be in that state. "There wasn't time to do anything else."

Pike's intense gaze softens a little. "I know that, Kirk. And I'm proud of you for it. You could have made any number of decisions. You could've made someone else go in. But you wouldn't ask your crew to do anything that you wouldn't do for them."

"It should never have come to that," Jim says. His vision blurs for a moment, then he blinks and his hands are just the same as they've always been, whole and healthy.

"No. It shouldn't have. But it did, and there's no use second-guessing yourself. Hindsight has always been clearer than the moment itself. What's important is what you did after you knew." Pike's hand comes to rest on Jim's shoulder, the warmth seeping through his jacket. "You took responsibility. That's what makes you a starship captain."

Nothing that Pike says will undo what was done, Jim knows. But even so, a knot in his chest seems to loosen a bit at the praise. It feels like a second chance. "So what happens now?"

"Now you go back," Pike says, and he's actually smiling. "They're waiting for you, and you can't stay here forever." The admiral stands, and only then does Jim realize what's missing. The cane that has been Pike's constant companion for the last year is gone. "And Kirk... you'll be back in due time. Don't be in such a hurry to get here next time."

Before Jim can ask what he means, the admiral turns and walks out of the bar, disappearing into the bright light outside. A light that gets brighter and brighter as he watches, until he can see nothing else.

The light fades slightly, and his body feels heavy, leaden, as a white room swims into view. A smudge moves into his field of vision, and he frowns, trying to make out what it is.

"Don't be so melodramatic," comes the welcome tones of McCoy as his face sharpens into focus. "You were barely dead."

Jim can't quite recall what's just happened, but he gets the feeling that it was something important. Something that feels like closure.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little plotbunny that would not go away until I wrote it down. I haven't written any Star Trek fic in over fifteen years but it just had to be done.


End file.
